


Starlight

by Luciferine



Category: The Last of Us
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Apocalypse Jokes, F/M, Gen, Kissing, Road Trips, Star Gazing, Valentine's Day Fluff, Written Prior to Sequel Release, brief mentions of theft, ellie is at least 18 here but tagged to be safe, except not really, marriage proposals but again not really, somehow this turned into a sequel to midnight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 15:12:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6013474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luciferine/pseuds/Luciferine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joel and Ellie stargaze and talk about the end of the world, among other things. Modern!AU. Sequel to 'Midnight'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Starlight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [writtenwords_and_constellations](https://archiveofourown.org/users/writtenwords_and_constellations/gifts).



> AN: Happy Valentine's Day, kids. I was prompted a long while ago for 'things you said to me in the grass and under the stars'. Somehow, Modern!AU decided it wanted a go. Consider this a sequel to Midnight, though you don't need to know anything from it aside from the fact that Joel and Ellie are more or less in a relationship now. Warnings for a lot of kissing, and Ellie making some really on-the-nose apocalypse jokes.

She can't stop shaking. For the first time in months, the cold isn't to blame. Winter could've been harsher, it's true, but Ellie is learning the difference between a mild winter indoors, and one spent sleeping in backseats. They've crossed enough state lines by now that she's sure whatever backwater place they're in never even sees snow, not that it matters now. Winter is pretty much over, thank _god_.  


"Gonna be an early spring," Joel told her weeks earlier, snorting at the frazzled red mess of her hair as she struggled back to the waking world.

"Says who?"

"Groundhog." And he smiled a little, just a tug at his mouth, watching her from the rear-view mirror and waiting for her reaction.

The radio babbled quietly, and Ellie was struck with the realization that they'd be basically cut off from the world if it stopped working. She didn't even know it was Groundhog Day. "Dumbass tradition," she muttered, burying herself back under her blanket with Joel's laughter ringing in her ears, and hoping like hell that the overgrown rodent was actually right.

"God bless global warming," she mutters, stretching out and eyeing the folded blanket resting on the backseat. Joel hums some response, more acknowledgement than anything. From her passenger-side view, the whole world is newly green and storm cloud-grey, the air fresh and clean with the hair-raising promise of storms to come. They left civilization a good long while ago, nothing but grass and crops and cows in front of them.

She doesn't even know what they're doing anymore. She doubts Joel does, either. They lost their latest Firefly tail ages ago. Marlene's been dead for over a year, and there's nowhere to run to or from. Some nights, Joel mentions his brother's farm up in Wyoming, but the conversation never goes beyond that. Ellie doesn't blame him. They both know things would be different, if they went. That in itself is enough to keep her moving; the past couple years have been the best of her life. She's not ready for _different_. She's not sure she'll ever be.

For now they get by the way they always have; Joel picking up odd jobs or playing cards for a bit of money, Ellie shoplifting whatever food or necessities that she can. She's joked a few times about holding up a store with the guns Joel keeps in the trunk, but they haven't gotten that desperate yet. Her method has worked well enough so far.

She almost never gets caught, and on the off day that she does, it's nothing that wide-eyed apologies and a few tears can't fix. She thinks of what would happen, if the cops came and looked into things, of what would happen to _Joel_ for roadtripping an unrelated minor across the country, and most times she doesn't have to fake the crying. But she's good, and she's fast, and most of the cashiers look the other way when they catch sight of her too-thin frame.

Joel always says she can get away with a lot, with a face like that. She takes it as a compliment; the girl she sees in every cracked motel mirror doesn't amaze her, but when she lingers too long in one place waiting for Joel, more often than not sympathetic looking strangers offer her money, or help, or the address of the nearest shelter. If that's the sort of face she has, she's glad for it, even if she refuses everything but the money.

She joked once about other ways for her to make money with such a pretty face. Joel didn't laugh, stayed quiet and surlier than usual for the rest of the day. He kissed her that night, hot and hungry on the side of some dirt road miles from that town, and it was cold enough outside that they managed to fog up the car windows like something out of a bad porno. She spent the whole night wide-eyed and aching for him after he pulled away.

Remembering that night does nothing to soothe the twitch that's worked its way down into her bones, and as she drums her bare heels against the dashboard for the umpteenth time, Joel finally spares her an exasperated look. "You alright?" he asks, tone already resigned to whatever she'll subject him to.

"I need to _move_ ," she groans, throwing her head back against the seat irritably. "I hate this fucking car, it's too fucking _small_."

Joel snorts. "Yeah, 'cause you need a lotta leg room." When she continues to fidget instead of mouthing back he sighs, expression turning sympathetic. "The last gas station _was_ a ways back, huh?"

She fixes him with a wide, serious look. "It's been years. Literal years. The cashier has probably died and rotted into dirt. There's not even a gas station anymore, just a big yellow square in the grass where it used to stand." He starts laughing, and that just eggs her on. "We've been driving for millennia. Humanity as we know it has ended. We're the last people on Earth."

"Could be worse," he reasons. "You ain't bad company for the end of the world."

"Yeah, whatever. You're not so bad yourself, old man." He seems way too pleased with that, and she switches the subject before he can preen too much. "Can't you pull over, or some shit?"

Joel stares up at the steadily darkening sky and makes a thoughtful noise. "Probably won't find anywhere to stay before dark. Pick a field, kid. We'll set up for the night."

"Oh, how _ever_ will I choose?" she says, affecting a horribly distorted southern drawl that has him wincing. "I was going for southern belle. Didn't work?"

"Nope."

"Damn. Gotta work harder, then. It's like, the mating call of your people, right?" The look he gives her has her cackling, and he pulls over onto the side of the road without another word. She's already unbuckling her seatbelt and reaching for the door before the car's even fully stopped. Joel grunts something about her breaking her fool neck, but he lets her fly out into the open air without complaint.

Her shoes are somewhere in the back, tossed haphazardly from earlier in the afternoon, and it's a relief to curl her toes into the dewy grass, feel it tickle and freeze the soles of her feet. She stares out across the field and there's nothing, _nothing_ but green and little splotches of flower-color for as far as she can see. She breathes in deep, wet earth and sweetness from the tiny flowers tickling at her toes.

"You're gonna catch your death," Joel mutters, and she hears a soft thud as he tosses her sneakers over. She hums distractedly, doesn't move to grab her shoes. "You sure you're alright?" She turns, catches an odd look on his face as he stares at her.

"Yeah," she says softly, digging her toes as deep into the soft earth as she can. Maybe she's going stir-crazy after a winter of cars-motels-diners-wash-rinse-repeat. Maybe she's not used to not being chased, or in danger, or alone.

"Look like you wanna run off and never come back," he says, concern playing across his face.

She laughs, but it comes out odd, a little choked. "Kinda," she admits, and only realizes her mistake when he flinches. "Not from you, idiot," she says gently. "It's just… a lot. Everything that happened suddenly _isn't_ happening anymore, and…" She shrugs, a little helpless. He watches her for a moment longer, seems to decide something. He grabs one of the bigger blankets from the car, some god-awful patchwork thing, kicking the door shut with a sound that echoes in the no man's land they've landed in.

She watches silently as he spreads the blanket out, keeps her feet rooted to the soft grass for a moment longer before lowering herself onto it. When Joel joins her, she sidles up to him immediately. There's a long moment where they both just stare at the sky; the clouds have cleared, and it's so easy to see the stars with no lights around for miles. Lying here, Ellie really could believe they were at the end of the world. She wonders what's wrong with her, that the thought of that brings her some measure of comfort.

"We could settle down somewhere, if you want," he offers quietly. "Maybe try our luck at Tommy's, or somewhere else if that goes south."

"Getting tired, old man?" She tries to pinpoint the North Star, bigger and brighter than the rest. She wonders if she should make a wish.

"No. Thinkin' you might be, though. Ain't exactly the life every girl dreams of, is it?" He curls an arm around her, still hesitant like he's afraid she'll break, or flinch away. The night air isn't cold, but compared to the feel of his skin on hers it's _freezing_. She moves closer, pressing cold hands against his warm, soft flannel. It doesn't do much, and with a frustrated huff she shoves one hand underneath his shirt so that it's splayed out across the warmth of his stomach.

He jolts, barking out a laugh. "Jesus, you're cold," he mutters, all fondness and a rough edge that makes her stomach flip. His hand is resting on the small of her back, thumb rubbing circles over her shirt, and for a moment she wonders if he'll mirror her movement. Her heart squeezes painfully for a moment, that strange mix of excitement and anxiety and _want_ , but he stays where he is and after a moment, she can breathe again.

"You make it way too easy," she complains, muffled against his shoulder so he can't tell her voice is a little fucked up. "How am I _not_ supposed to make a crack about you warming me up?"

Joel hums, warm and low like he's remembering something with _special_ fondness, and she's really glad he can't see what that does to her complexion. "Didn't answer my question," he reminds her.

She sighs, turns so she's staring back up at the sky. "I'm not tired," she says, quiet enough that she's not even sure she spoke out loud. "I don't know what the fuck I'm doing, but it's… it's good. You and me, and all _this_." She reluctantly removes her hand from his skin to gesture to the car, the field, the sky, everything that they've done until now. "Feels _right_ , you know?"

"Yeah," he mutters. "I know." And that hand on her back goes painfully still, like he's fighting with something. "Business as usual, then?"

"Aimless wandering with the occasional make-out session? Yeah, I'm cool with that." He grimaces, and she _knows_ she's in for another one of his infamous 'I'm playing tonsil hockey with a teenager' guilt trips. There's been a whole fucking lot of them, since that first midnight kiss. Her heart aches a little, seeing the guilt crawl across his face, and she has to look away.

The stars twinkle sympathetically overhead, and for a moment the urge to run trickles back into her bones. Only for a moment, and then she remembers her latest score from the gas station. "Stay here," she tells him, and okay, _where else is he gonna go_ , but she's already pushing herself to her feet.

The grass is unforgivably cold now, but she can't be bothered to put on her shoes, so she runs on tip-toes all the way to the car, swearing the entire time. Joel calls after her, half-amused and half-concerned, but she ignores him, rooting around in her backpack until she finds what she's looking for.

She's maybe a little too excited, slipping and sliding on the dewy grass in her haste to get back. She manages not to fall until she's right in front of him, and by then she doesn't really care that she's going to be walking around with grass stains on her ass.

Joel's sitting up, one arm slung across his knees while he watches her. He cuts a pretty good figure, with nothing but the stars and moon at his back. It's not the best time to be starstruck over him, so she ignores the way her mouth goes dry and tosses the chocolate bar into his lap. "Here." She scampers onto the blanket, partly because her ass is _freezing_ and partly because she doesn't want to stare at him head-on right now.

He stares at it for a moment before picking it up, eyeing it like he's wondering if it'll explode. "What?" he says, and he's so genuinely baffled that she starts to second-guess the whole idea. Not that there was a whole lot of _thinking_ involved. She felt the urge to get him something, so she snuck the chocolate into her pocket.

"Happy Valentine's Day?" she offers sheepishly. He keeps looking at her like she's gone insane, and she starts to fidget in earnest. "Did you not notice all the balloons and creepy stuffed animals at the gas station? Dude, come _on_. You're old, not blind."

He's silent for a moment, turning the Hershey's over in his hand with way too much scrutiny to be directed at a chocolate bar. "What, no card?" The tension leaves her all at once, shoulders sagging with relief. He sounds a little off underneath the teasing, and she's about to rib him for getting emotional over _candy_ , of all things, but something stops her.

She kicks at his feet lightly, scoffing. "Roses are red, violets are blue, now eat the fucking chocolate before I _take it from you_." He chuckles, and she grins triumphantly.

He raises his eyebrows. "Rhymes and all, I'm impressed. You could give Hallmark a run for their money."

"Flattery will get you everywhere." He's still _looking_ at it, and she has to laugh at that. "You're supposed to _eat_ it, you freak. I know you like chocolate, don't lie to me." Most of the sweets they come across end up shoved in her direction, but she's seen him sneak enough of her leftovers to know it's out of kindness and not dislike.

"Ain't hungry. You eat it."

She rolls her eyes at him, unimpressed. "You ate like… half a granola bar for breakfast. You're gonna waste away."

"I'm at least three of you, kid." But his eyes are shining, and she thinks she might've done a good thing, for once.

"Not for long, if you don't _eat_." She fixes him with a pleading look. "I'll be really sad if you reject my gift. I might cry."

"How tragic," he deadpans, but he opens the wrapper without any more fuss. He breaks off a square and pops it in his mouth, and there's a moment of delight that makes him look so young that her heart hurts. "So," he starts, a thoughtful look crossing his face. "Valentine's Day."

"Yup."

"I didn't-"

"I _know_ , dumbass. You're always getting me shit. I thought I'd return the favor, just this once." She thinks fondly of the _Savage Starlight_ comics, long-finished but still taking up space at the bottom of her bag, of every time he orders more food than he could eat just to shove it at her and mutter about wasting.

He fixes her with a serious look. "You don't owe me, kid. Not for anythin'."

She knows he's not talking about the chocolate, not really. "I know," she says, and the look on his face is just a little too much for her to handle. She snags a piece of candy instead.

"Hey!" Joel guffaws.

"Finder's fee," she explains through a full mouth, grinning at him with chocolate-covered teeth. She figures she's allowed to be a little smug; she made Joel _happy_ , she deserves a fucking _medal._ She expects a laugh, maybe, or an eye-roll. But he's silent, and watchful, and she feels her stomach knot itself up and she just _knows_. Or hopes, at least, because it's been way too long since that night in the backseat and she wants him so much it _hurts_ her.

"C'mere," he says, and she'd be embarrassed by how fast she's on him if he wasn't pulling her so close, gripping her hips and fitting her against him like she belongs there. She's still not used to the jolt that goes through her when their mouths meet, or the way her body suddenly turns strange to her, everything too-hot and aching and _not close enough_.

It's just _this_ side of too much; too much sweetness in the way they're touching and the lingering taste of chocolate in both their mouths, too much heat, too much sensation when he moves his mouth –his _teeth_ , god help her- to the side of her neck. She's shaking again, but she wouldn't move if the fucking _sky_ started breaking apart over their heads.

His hands coil in her hair, and she feels her ponytail come undone, probably tossed somewhere they won't find it. He tugs, just a little, and she does _something_ with her hips in response, more a surprised stutter than anything practiced.

"Jesus _Christ_ ," he groans, and when she laughs it sounds like a sob, and she's grateful when he slants his mouth over hers again, swallowing the sound entirely. And even though he doesn't push her down, and she doesn't pull him, somewhere in their movements she finds her back hitting the blanket and every solid _inch_ of him covering her. _Oh_. This is new.

His face is in shadow, starlight spilling over his shoulders and the silver in his hair, and she grins some goofy, stupid grin because he's turning her into a fucking _poet_. He's gulping for air same as her, propped up on his forearms to keep the brunt of his weight off her. "Alright?" he asks gruffly.

"Yeah." And he breathes in sharp, like he's gonna say something else, but she tangles her hands in his hair and _pulls_ , and that's enough to have him licking into her mouth again.

One of his hands bunches her shirt, and though he's not lifting it she can feel the brush of his fingers over her hipbone. It's not the first time he's done it, but she's feeling dizzy and stupid-brave enough that- "You can… if you want, I mean-" She feels his pulse jump against her fingertips, and then his hand is sliding under her shirt, palm burning against her back, and she lets out a hitched, startled sound.

"Easy," he murmurs, even though he doesn't sound all that steady, either. "You're alright."

But he worries, she knows because he never fucking _stops_ , and starts to pull his hand back. "Don't," she mutters, pressing back into the warmth of it.

And it's so frustrating that she wants to _scream_ , because she _does_ want him to go further, but _further_ looms over her and makes her anxious for all that she wants it. But Joel seems to understand, never gives any more or any less than she asks for. He doesn't pull his hand away, and between that and the warm, steady pressure of his mouth, his body, she gets lost.

He's shaking too, fingers curling against her back like he wants nothing more than to _move_. She almost offers –she thinks she could handle it, if he really needed her to, thinks she _wants_ to- but before the words have formed in her brain, he's swearing roughly in the millimeter of air between them and pushing himself off of her. She keeps her eyes shut as she hears him land beside her, only opens them when she's remembered how to breathe her own air.

"Too much?" she guesses, her head spinning so fast that the stars above are just streaks of light, some of them in colors she _knows_ weren't there before.

"Too much," he agrees.

Her offer tingles in her mouth, but she can't find the courage to spit it out. Instead, she says, "Can we stay out here a while?" The temperature dropped, or maybe hers just rose, but either way she's not ready for the cramped confines of their car just yet.

She can hear him breathing heavy still, the loudest thing for miles around. "I'll get the rest of the blankets," he mutters. "Just… gimme a minute."

"Take your time," she says breezily. "Then you can help me name constellations."

He chokes out a laugh. "Big Dipper ain't good enough for you?"

"Whoever looked at the sky and thought it was a good idea to name awesome, massive, fiery balls of light after a fucking _spoon_ needs to fight me."

"Yes, ma'am."

Ellie flips him off lazily, stretches out so that her toes are touching the grass again. The temperature difference is almost painful, and she thinks it might even be enough to make her sick, but there's something grounding about it that she likes. "Maybe we could live here," she muses.

"Where?" Joel asks. She sees him get up out of the corner of her eye, ambling back to the car.

"Out here. Or in the woods, or something. Live off the land, be hermits. It could be pretty cool, just the two of us. You could build us a house, right? Out of… logs, or something. People do that."

"Back when folks thought the earth was flat, maybe." Even though he's a few feet away, she can hear the amusement in his voice.

"We'd just need food," she says, ignoring his teasing. "We could hunt. Figure out plants to eat."

"How? Testin' them for poison?" He drops the extra blankets on her with a thud, chuckling at her indignant yelp.

"And we could scare anyone who came too close. Start up rumors that the place is haunted, traumatize whole generations."

"You're a weird kid," he says fondly, settling beside her and pulling a blanket across them both.

"See, you keep saying that, and yet you're still here. So really, who's the weird one?"

"Fair enough. In that case, you sure you wanna be stuck with me for the rest of my life?"

" _Our_ lives. We're dying at the same time, if we have to."

"If we _have_ to?"

"I'd prefer to not die, thanks."

Any other night, he'd probably try and have a serious talk about this. The age difference between them means a lot more than they like to admit on a good day. But tonight, he just sighs, pulls her over so that her head is resting against his thigh. "Alright, then. My point still stands. Forever's a hell of a long time to be stuck with anybody, and I ain't the best company to begin with."

She waves him off, unbothered. "You're an acquired taste. I've acquired you."

"Now who's settin' up for dirty jokes?" he teases.

"Oh, fuck _off_." But she's laughing as she says it, little giggles that burst out of her without any warning. "I'll befriend some fluffy woodland creatures to talk to when you're being an ass. Or I'll talk to the stars, or the trees, or the flowers. You're allowed to be crazy if you're a hermit. It's in the job description."

"You don't say."

"Whatever, dude. It's a great idea. The fucking _world_ could end and we wouldn't even notice. We could repopulate the planet with our beautiful, witty children."

Joel makes a sound that's too awkward not to laugh at. "Ain't you a little young to be thinkin' about babies?"

"Living forever, remember? We could make a whole country."

"Jesus _Christ_ , Ellie." She feels him laugh before she hears him, and she wishes she could always be this close to him, always feel him like she is now.

"Yeah, you're right," she admits. "We're not exactly cut out to be parents, fucked-up assholes that we are." And maybe there's a little too much truth to that, painful as it is to think about. She decides not to think on it too much, not yet. "Still. You should think about it. Statistically, the world's gonna end at some point. We're getting closer every day; this is the beginning of the _end,_ Joel. Our best chance of survival is to stick together and stay the hell away from everyone else."

"Sounds like a pretty good deal."

"Damn right."

He's quiet for a long moment. "It's gonna be a long time, Ellie. And you're real young, to be makin' decisions about who you're spendin' it with." And even though he's warning her off, she knows she's not imagining the hope in his voice.

She swallows at the rising lump in her throat and swats at his arm. "I stole _chocolate_ for you, asshole. And let you keep most of it. As far as I'm concerned, that's a fucking marriage proposal."

She feels the tension leave him, and his hand buries into her hair again. "Alright."

She snorts. "Great. Congratulations, us. I always thought Ellie Miller had a nice ring to it."

Joel splutters. " _What?_ That ain't what I meant."

"That's what _I_ meant. We're married, done. No take-backs."

She tilts her head to grin up at him, and he watches her with a bemused expression. "'Till death do us part, then?" he asks, clearly trying to stifle a laugh.

" _Immortal_ , Joel. Keep up, Jesus."

He _does_ laugh then, long and loud, and when he looks up she sees the stars reflected in his eyes. As far as apocalypses go, she thinks they're off to a pretty good start.


End file.
